


concord

by oryx



Category: Danball Senki
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oryx/pseuds/oryx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Let me guess," Asuka says. "You're having a little lover's spat with the wife again?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	concord

**Author's Note:**

> written in honor of 20 y/o sendou's glorious rat tail  
> (someday i'll stop writing the same dumb fic over and over again. _someday_... [stares wistfully into the sunset])

It all begins, as he will later discover, with:

 

“Man, your hair is getting so long. You gonna get it cut soon?”

 

In this moment he could swear he hears a noise – a sharp intake of breath. He could swear he sees Daiki’s shoulders tense up, just a little. But in the end Daiki doesn’t turn, doesn’t say a single word, and Hanzou frowns, leaning in a bit closer.

 

“Oi, you asleep already?” he whispers. No answer. He puts a hand on Daiki’s shoulder but receives no response. He listens closely to his breathing, which seems to have evened out. And then he merely shrugs and lies down, circling an arm around Daiki’s waist, curling in close so that his chest is pressed warm against Daiki’s back.

 

(The next morning Daiki turns away when he goes in for a kiss, but Hanzou is still too groggy and sleep-addled to think anything of it.)

 

.

 

.

 

He is jolted back to reality by the sound of Hakai-O Ouga’s armor splintering.

 

“Shit,” he hisses, scrambling to input a command, but it’s already too late. Hakai-O Ouga Breaks Over a moment later, toppling on to its back, and Hanzou sighs wearily as he stares down at it. Wonderful. Two days til the tournament and he has to repair the goddamn breastplate.

 

“What the fuck was that?” Asuka says. She’s glaring at him from across the diorama, more confused than anything. Vampire Cat doesn’t have a single scratch on it as it jumps back into her outstretched hand. “Stop zoning out in the middle of battles, dude. The hell is wrong with you, anyway? You’ve been off your game all week.”

 

“It’s nothing,” Hanzou mutters, holding Hakai-O Ouga up to the light to inspect the damage.

 

Asuka looks sorely unconvinced. She folds her arms and raises an eyebrow. “Mmhmm. Y’know what, no, you don’t have to tell me. Instead, let me just guess: you’re having a little lover’s spat with the wife again?”

 

He blinks at her.

 

“C’mon man, what do you take me for?” She sighs. “I’m pretty observant, you know. I notice shit. Whenever you’re out of sorts it’s always, always because of him. And it’s almost always _him_ who’s mad at _you_. So… what’d you do this time, exactly?”

 

Hanzou wavers for a moment before slumping against the diorama with a groan. “I don’t know what I did! That’s the problem! Usually I have _some_ clue… I mean, last time it was ‘cause I didn’t invite him to that LBX research gala thing. Which was bullshit because he hates stuff like that – hates getting dressed up and shaking people’s hands and listening to their boring-ass stories. So I _assumed_ like an idiot that he wouldn’t want to go, but apparently not!” Hanzou makes a frustrated noise, footsteps loud and angry as he descends down the arena staircase, making a sharp turn at the bottom and heading towards the lounge. Asuka follows behind him, and he knows without even looking that she’s making That Face. That self-satisfied, vaguely amused, “Lady Asuka has deigned to listen to your silly problems” face. He’d hate her for it if she wasn’t so damn cathartic to rant to.

 

“And then there was the time before that, when I told him his taste in movies sucked. I mean, he always wants to watch these weird old ones from like… the 2010s and shit. And the effects are so bad, but whenever I say as much he gets all pretentious on me. ‘Effects aren’t everything, imbecile! It’s about the story! It’s about the _cinematography_!’ God, who the fuck cares? Movies are supposed to be fun, not some kind of chore.” He pushes the lounge door open and flops down on the couch with an aggravated huff. “Not to mention he never shuts the hell up during the movies I pick. Has to tell me in detail how stupid each scene is.”

 

Asuka is feeding coins into the vending machine, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

 

“You’re going to have to invite me over for Cinema Saturday someday,” she says a moment later, taking a seat next to him with her tomato juice in hand. “Daiki critiquing every implausible moment in _Ultra Space Warriors 4D_ is something I’m pretty sure I have to witness for myself.”

 

“Oh, you think it’s funny?” Hanzou grumbles. “Laugh it up while you still can. Twenty minutes in and you’ll be _this close_ to smothering him with a pillow.”

 

Asuka merely laughs harder. “But seriously,” she says a moment later, trying to assume a straight face. “Back to the problem at hand, right? When did he first seem pissed?”

 

“I dunno… Last Wednesday, I guess?” A terrible realization strikes him, then, and he leans forward to put his head in his hands. “Oh god. _That’s_ why I’m so out of it. I haven’t gotten any in a week and a half.”

 

“Dude!” Asuka exclaims, face contorting into an expression of pure horror. “Come on! Too much information! The last thing I wanna think about is the two of you fucking. That one time I walked in on you making out was bad enough.”

 

“What? You’re one to talk! You overshare about your,” and here he makes an awkward, hand-wavey gesture, “ _sexual escapades_ all the damn time! And I’ve heard you talking to Ran about that stuff before!”

 

“Yeah, but you two are different, man.” She shudders. “It’s like hearing about my _parents_ or something. Eurgh.”

 

Hanzou stares at her. “What sense does that make? We’re only two years older than you – y’know what, no, let’s just get back on topic. I’m _trying_ to get some advice here.”

 

“Fine, here’s some advice,” Asuka says, rolling her eyes. “Why don’t you just _ask_ him?”

 

“… Ask him,” Hanzou echoes.

 

“Yes, dumbass. Just fucking ask him why he’s angry. Communicate. Y’know, like normal people do. And wow, there you go! Problem solved. Imagine that.”

 

Hanzou ponders this for a moment. Maybe… she has a point? He’s clearly getting nowhere trying to read Daiki’s mind.

 

“Yeah,” he says slowly, nodding to himself. “Yeah, okay. That makes sense. I’ll just… ask him. Keep it simple and straightforward. I’m a straightforward kinda guy, right?”

 

Asuka reaches over and claps him on the shoulder.

 

“You certainly are, Gouda,” she says with a wry smile. “You certainly are.”

 

.

 

.

 

“Hey,” he says, leaning in the kitchen doorway. “Why’re you so pissed at me?”

 

Daiki glances at him over the top of his tablet (probably reading one of his weird supernatural mystery novels again) and narrows his eyes.

 

“Are you saying you don’t know?”

 

“Yes! That’s exactly what I’m saying!” He grits his teeth in frustration. “You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder for more than a week now and it’s driving me up the fucking wall. What the hell did I _do_?”

 

Daiki merely looks at him for long moment, gaze darkening, lips pressed together in a thin, hard line. He sets his tablet aside with an aggravated sigh; leans back in his seat and folds his arms across his chest.

 

“Hanzou,” he says, “do you think I should get a haircut?”

 

“… Huh?”

 

“A haircut,” he repeats, slower this time, as if he were speaking to a particularly dimwitted child. “Do you think I should get one?”

 

Hanzou stares at him, bewildered. “Um… Maybe? It’s your hair, dude. If you want to get it cut, then go ahead…? Where did this come from?”

 

It doesn’t seem possible, but somehow Daiki’s expression turns even more sullen. He laughs bitterly, pushing back his chair and getting to his feet.

 

“Forget it,” he says, words clipped and brittle. “I’m going out.”

 

“Going out…? No, just – just wait a fucking second!” Hanzou grabs him by the arm as he tries to brush past. “You’re upset about your _hair_? Why?”

 

“Because you’re the one who told me to grow it out,” Daiki snaps.

 

Hanzou blinks.

 

“… I did? When?”

 

“Tch. I don’t fucking know. Last year sometime.” He scowls, yanking his wrist free from Hanzou’s grasp. “We were watching some late night talk show and there was this actor being interviewed who had long hair, and _you_ said I should grow mine out ‘just like his.’ So I did. And now you’re telling me you don’t even remember, and I just spent an entire year acting like a pathetic, over-invested dumbass, pointlessly trying to make you happy. So please understand where I’m coming from when I say: fuck you, Hanzou.”

 

Hanzou gapes at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

 

“I… I don’t – ” he says, but Daiki is already storming away. The sound of the door opening can be heard, followed by a slam so loud the floorboards seem to shiver beneath his feet. Hanzou stands there in shock as his jumbled thoughts struggle to sort themselves out. That Daiki would do anything for the sole purpose of making _him_ happy… It’s strange, and kind of incredible, and Hanzou finds himself smiling despite it all. He peers down the hallway and sees that Daiki forgot his coat, which is a decent enough excuse to chase after him.

 

Good thing, too, because it’s astonishingly cold outside – far too cold for mid-autumn. Daiki is shivering like crazy by the time Hanzou catches up to him. He scowls as Hanzou moves to block his path, averting his gaze with a huff of annoyance, but can’t hide his relief as the coat is draped over his shoulders.

 

“Man, you’re so troublesome,” Hanzou sighs. “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t remember saying any of that. I was probably half asleep at the time. You know I ramble like an idiot when I’m tired. And you rarely listen to me when I’m coherent, so I don’t know why you’d listen to me when I’m on the verge of passing out – ”

 

“Oh, so we’re pinning all the blame on me, are we?” Daiki says with a sneer. He’d be more threatening if his nose weren’t bright red from the chill.

 

“No, god, will you just – that’s not what I’m saying!” Hanzou drags a hand across his face tiredly. “I’m saying I fucked up and I’m sorry, but maybe next time just… confirm with me in the morning?? Instead of silently taking to heart some dumb shit I blather in the dead of night?”

 

Daiki glowers at him for a time.

 

“… _Fine_ ,” he grits out. He makes a move like he’s trying to sidestep, but Hanzou cuts him off once more.

 

“And,” Hanzou continues, reaching out to touch Daiki’s hair, which is spilling over his shoulder. “If it counts for anything… I think it does look pretty good on you.” He rubs the soft strands between his fingers thoughtfully. “I was definitely on to something when I told you to grow it out. I mean… When we’re in bed and it’s all fanned out around you? That shit is sexy as hell, not gonna lie – ”

 

His last few words come out as a muffled ‘mmph’ thanks to Daiki’s hand clapped over his mouth.

 

“Oh my fucking god,” he hisses. His face, already flushed from the cold, is steadily growing even redder. “Don’t say shit like that in public!”

 

Hanzou laughs, pressing his lips against Daiki’s palm. (He grimaces and snatches his hand back.)

 

“In public? There’s no one else out here, man. …Which makes sense, ‘cause it’s goddamn freezing. I think we may have to huddle together for warmth.” He holds out his arms and stands there, looking at Daiki expectantly. In return he gets a withering glare.

 

“C’mon,” he says, cajoling. “I know you secretly want a hug. Don’t even try to deny it.”

 

Seconds tick past. Daiki’s surly expression gradually fades into a kind of weary resignation, and he steps forward with a put-upon sigh, wrapping his arms around Hanzou’s chest.

 

“I hate you so much,” he mutters. His face is buried in the crook of Hanzou’s neck, breath hot against his skin.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Hanzou says with an exasperated smile. He rolls his eyes and returns the embrace. “I hate you too.”


End file.
